


I'll Carry You Into Our Future My Dear

by eragon19



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1 Fics, Dancing, Drunk John, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, No Angst, Sherlock lifts John, Strong Sherlock, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Weddings, episodic, seeing the ballet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eragon19/pseuds/eragon19
Summary: Fives times Sherlock lifts John when needs must and the one time John asks for it.





	I'll Carry You Into Our Future My Dear

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluff. 
> 
> [I wanna dance with somebody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caTGU4jS5LM) by Whitney Houston really captures the tone of this fic, especially if you listen to it during the last part.

**1.**

The first time it happened they were on a case. John was, as usual, a few steps behind his unusually long-legged friend and riding high on the thrill of the chase. He flew through the alley behind Sherlock, eyes on the suspect, and relishing in the snap of Sherlock’s coat hem against his knees. He didn’t even see how close he was to the rubbish skip until he’d collided with the side of it and gone sprawling to the ground. 

John cried out as he hit the filthy alley floor, his shin stinging with pain. He expected Sherlock to keep running, after all the suspect was getting away. Instead the detective halted at the sound of John’s pain and spun around. 

“John!” 

John blinked at the sight of Sherlock rushing toward him, his face twisted in concern. 

“Are you al-

“The suspect is-

“Never mind that. Are you hurt?” Sherlock said, hooking a hand under John’s arm to help him to his feet. 

John got his feet under him, enjoying the feel of Sherlock’s strong hands on his arms. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” John said, his words bellied by a hiss of pain. 

Immediately Sherlock was on his knees before John, his fingers proding through the hole in John’s jeans. 

“Hum, it looks deep,” he peered up at John through his lashes, “I think it might need stitches.”

“Fuck,” John said through clenched teeth. 

The adrenaline was wearing off and John could feel the pain pressing white hot against his calf. 

“Come on John,” Sherlock said, his voice gentle, “Let’s get a cab.”

John nodded and took a small step forward, wincing sharply as pain rocketed up his leg. Sherlock’s arm immediately curled around his shoulders, steading him. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” John hissed, the pain making the words sharper than he intended.

He took a few more shuffling steps forward, thankful for Sherlock’s arm around his shoulders (though he would never admit it), before he had to stop again.

“God fucking damn it,” John swore under his breath. 

It was just a scratch, what was wrong with him? They were still a good distance from the main road, and at this rate it would be nightfall by the time John got there.

“Maybe you should go on ahead and come back with the cab,” John said as they emerged onto the quiet street. The suspect was nowhere in sight of course.

“Nonsense,” Sherlock said, voice distant.

John looked up, to see Sherlock looking at him with his thinking stare. It was the stare that meant John wouldn’t like whatever Sherlock was about to suggest.

“Listen Sherl-

His words were cut off as Sherlock wrapped an arm around his shoulders again and pulled John close. John was opening his mouth to ask what was going on, when Sherlock hooked a hand under his knees and hauled John off his feet.

John sputtered in indignation as Sherlock adjusted his footing, took a deep breath and began carrying John away.

“Sherlock! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

“Nonsense John,” Sherlock said, his voice only a little strained, “This is much faster than that slow hobble you were making me deal with.”

“But I-

John tried to wiggle out of Sherlock’s grasp while frantically looking around to see just how many people where witnessing him being carted off. 

“I suggest you stay still unless you want me to drop you,” Sherlock panted, walking slightly faster. 

He was clearly realising John wasn’t as light as he looked. 

“If you don’t want to drop me then put me down!” John said, squirming harder and cringing at the indulgent smile a couple across the road was giving them. 

“John!” Sherlock cried, tightening his hold.

“Aw let him carry you love!” a voice across the street cawed, “Show us chivalry ain't dead!”

John felt himself go red and Sherlock huffed a laugh above him. “Yes John, let me- be- chivalrous-

“Jesus, save your breath!” John said, surprised to hear the laugh in his voice.

Sherlock huffed another laugh above him and gave John a wink.

“Alright, fine,” John sighed, deciding to see the humor in the situation. It was either that or be dropped. He wouldn’t put it passed Sherlock to dump him onto the pavement. 

Well, maybe.

“But you’ll put me down as soon as we reach the corner.”

“Of course... _ dear _ ,” Sherlock said.

“Watch it you!” John said, grinning despite himself.

He settled into Sherlock’s arms, trying to hold some of his weight up to make thing easier for the man. 

If that meant his face was tucked into Sherlock’s neck, so be it. If it meant his nose slid into the small gap between Sherlock’s scarf and shirt to graze the warm skin of his neck, well then, so be it. 

****

**2.**

The second time it happened, John was drunk off his arse. Well not quite off his arse, but drunk enough that Mike had called Sherlock to some get him.

John wasn’t angry. After all he’d stolen Mike’s phone and called his wife to come pick up her ‘drunk bad-joke-telling-sod of a husband’. Apparently Mike thought proper retaliation was calling Sherlock to collect his ‘washed-up-over-the-hill-hus-flatmate’.

He and Mike had merrily berated each other in the biting night air, the pub lights throwing blocky shapes of light onto the dark street. 

“Ah Sherlock!” Mike crowed happily, interrupting John’s, quite clever- if he said so himself- insult.

“Sherlock!” John said spinning around and beaming at the approaching man. 

The streetlight cast a yellow glow over Sherlock, highlighting the contorts of his face and his eyes. As usual he was dressed sharp, in a perfectly cut black suit and crisp white shirt. He looked-

“-so handsome,” 

To John’s horror the words slid out his mouth just as Sherlock reached him. He gave John a bemused smile as Mike burst out laughing.

“Cat’s outta the bag John!” Mike said, slapping John hard on the shoulder.

John stumbled into Sherlock’s chest, laughing, the alcohol taking his worries away. So what if Sherlock heard? He should know John thought he was handsome! 

“You are!” John said, looking up at Sherlock, his chin tucked against Sherlock’s chest.

“I’m what?” Sherlock said, smiling, his gloved hands coming up to John’s shoulders to steady him.

John rose onto his tiptoes to make sure Sherlock heard this very important fact.

“Handsome,” John said in a conspiring whisper, his lips brushing messily against Sherlock’s ear. 

Sherlock froze as John pulled back, his grin faded at the look on Sherlock’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, cupping Sherlock’s face in his hands. What had made his Sherlock sad?

“Are you-

“Ah there’s my wife!” Mike called happily, waving toward a red car. “I’ll see you chaps later! Get home in one piece!”

With that he was gone.

John turned back to Sherlock, blinking slowly. What had he been saying? 

Sherlock was smiling at him, though the smile was sad and his eyes were tight.

“Let’s get you home John,” Sherlock said softly, clapping a hand around his shoulders. “I have a cab waiting up the road.”

“You would,” John giggled, staggering next to Sherlock.

He kept trying- and failing- not to knock into Sherlock. The forth time he crashed into Sherlock’s shoulder the man huffed and turned to face him. 

“Sorry, sorry. ‘S not me- ‘s the-

John gestured lamely back to the pub. 

“Well then,” Sherlock said rolling his eyes, “this isn’t me, it the-

Sherlock mimed John’s lazy gesture in the direction of the idling cab.

“What’s not you?” John asked, puzzled as Sherlock buttoned his coat and tugged off his gloves.

Instead of answering, Sherlock bent over, tucked his shoulder into John’s midsection and hoisted John over his shoulder. John yelped in surprise as the few pub goers who’d braved the cold howled in delight behind them.

John gave them the finger as Sherlock carted him away.

“Sherlock!”

“I’ve heard it all before John. Save it. It’s the fastest way to get into the fucking cab.”

The acid in Sherlock’s tone gave John a pause. What was eating him? Most likely the fact he had to come out and collect his adult drunk off his arse flatmate.

John pondered the best way to apologize as he dangled over Sherlock’s shoulder. He was just working up an apology that wouldn’t make Sherlock drop him, when Sherlock put him down. 

“Here we are,” he said, sounding slightly breathless.  

He yanked open the car door and ushered John inside. All thoughts of an apology were cowed by the look on Sherlock’s face.

Back at the flat, Sherlock’s skills were put to use to get John- now half asleep- up the stairs. John couldn’t remember much. Just the vague impression of being impressed Sherlock could carry another grown man up the stairs and how warm his bed felt under him.

What he did remember was what he said to Sherlock right before he drifted off. 

“I do, you know,” he’d whispered as Sherlock tugged the duvet over him.

“Do what?” Sherlock asked absentmindedly, stuffing a pillow behind John to keep him propped on his side. 

“Think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met.”

Sherlock looked stunned for a moment. Then he let out a quiet chuckle and patted John’s hip through the blanket. 

“Get some sleep John.”

“No no, I do!” 

It was important to him for Sherlock to understand this. He needed to. Instead Sherlock smiled at him and headed for the door. 

“Night John,”

John let out a disgruntled noise, sleep pulling him under before he could convince Sherlock he was really the most handsome man John had ever seen.

***

**3.**

Three days after John’s drunken night out and things at the flat were tense to say the least. Sherlock was barely speaking to him. He claimed he was focused on an experiment but the confused and slightly hurt looks he kept throwing John said otherwise. 

John had apologized for forcing Sherlock out of the flat to collect him, but it hadn’t helped. John knew he was being a coward. He knew Sherlock wasn’t bothered by that, he knew it had to be his stupid comments about Sherlock being handsome. He certainly did think Sherlock was handsome, he just didn’t want  _ Sherlock  _ to know that. At least not yet.

Probably not ever…

John sighed and sipped his tea, sneaking a look at Sherlock parked behind his microscope in the kitchen. The rain was pounding against the windows and the telly was talking in the background. All in all it should be a lovely afternoon. Except for this tension.

He snuck another look at Sherlock as the man slid another sample another the scope.

He  _ was  _ handsome, John thought, even in ratty pajamas with tousled hair….especially the tousled bed hair…

Just then Sherlock looked up and caught John’s eye. John quickly looked away, his cheeks heating. He heard Sherlock sigh and then the glassy clink of a new slide being slid into place. John let out a sigh of his own. This was ridiculous. They were too grown men and so what if John had called Sherlock handsome .He thought so and maybe it was time he finally address this... _ thing... _ that had been between them for so long.

Oh for fuck’s sake he should call a spade a spade...he was in love with Sherlock and it was time he grew a pair and did something about it.

He stood up, took a deep breath and headed into the kitchen. 

“Sherlock….there’s something I need to tell you..

He saw Sherlock tense, before he seemed to steel himself. He looked up at John, his face blank. John swallowed and straightened his spine. 

“There’s something I wanted- no need to tell you. It’s been on my mind for awhile now and if I don’t say something I’ll- well-

He let out a feeble laugh, cutting it off with a gulp when Sherlock simply stared at him. 

Right, he could do this. 

“I think I’m in love with you. No, that’s not right...I am in love with you.”

It was strange; how could he feel like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, while his stomach fell into his shoes?

Sherlock blinked at him, his hands frozen on the microscope and John’s nerve began to fail.

“I mean- I know this is out of nowhere so it’s probably a shock. I meant what I said outside of the pub; I think you’re- you’re handsome and I’m in love with you.” He took a deep breath, “I understand if you don’t feel the same way, and I hope we can still be friends. So- um- yeah.”

By the time he’d finished his speech his eyes were glued to the floor. It was said, now if only Sherlock could say something instead of staring…

He heard the scrape of Sherlock’s chair and flinched. Was the man simply going to leave? God this was a disaster, he should have kept his mouth shut.

John jumped when Sherlock’s hand curled under his chin and turned John to face him. 

“You’re in love with me?” Sherlock asked, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain.

John could do nothing but nod.

“And you think I don’t feel the same way?” 

John nodded again, his heart thudding in his throat.

“Oh John,” Sherlock’s eyes were softer than John had ever seen them. “I love you too.”

John froze, now he was the one staring. Sherlock was smiling at him, his face wrinkling the way it only did when he genuinely smiled. 

John opened his mouth, to say what he didn’t know. Then Sherlock was leaning down and his lips were against John’s and every word flew right out of John’s head. John wasted no time sliding his hands around Sherlock’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

Sherlock hummed against his mouth and dropped his hands to John’s wasit, squeezing him tight. John grunted and grinned against Sherlock’s mouth, he felt Sherlock smile back and pulled back to peer up at the detective. 

Sherlock was glowing, his smile soft  and his eyes running over John’s face. John stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him again, tilting his head to slot their lips together. Suddenly, Sherlock tightened his hold and straightened up, pulling John off his feet.

“Sherlock!” John yelped and looked down to see his feet swaying a few inches off the floor.

Sherlock laughed, the happiest John had heard him in a while, and swayed John from side to side in his arms.

“You love it, don’t lie,” Sherlock said with a sly smile, swinging John around playfully.

John rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest. After all it was futile to try to lie to Sherlock holmes.

***

**4.**

“The was wonderful John,” Sherlock said happily, his breath fogging in the chilly air.

John grinned as Sherlock turned a lazy twirl, causing his coat to fan out around him and giving John a great view of his perfectly cut tuxedo. He was suddenly glad they’d decided to cut through the park to get home.

“I always prefered the nutcracker, but Bussel makes a magnificent Sleeping Beauty,” Sherlock said, continuing his slow spins across the snowy ground. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” John said, catching Sherlock as he glided past and slipping his hands under Sherlock’s coat.

Sherlock grinned down at him, draping his arms around John’s shoulders and leaning down for a kiss. John kissed back, enjoying the warm, hard line of Sherlock’s body pressed against his own.

“And her grand jete!” Sherlock said, pulling back, his cheeks red with the cold. 

John chuckled, “Yeah she can jump.”

Sherlock gave him a playful glare, “ _ Jump _ ,” he said with a scoff.

John affected offence and Sherlock’s eyes turned mischievous. 

“But do you want to know what I loved the most?” Sherlock purred, slinking into John’s space.

John gave him a weary look, but held his ground as Sherlock’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“The lifts!” Sherlock declared, yanking John off his feet and spinning around.

John squawked as Sherlock swung them in a circle, making his feet cut through the cold air. 

“My absolute favourite!” Sherlock continued prancing in a small circle, John dangling against him. 

Instead of fighting it, John laughed and let himself be manhandled. Although he’d never admit it, there was something nice about being spun around in his boyfriend’s arms in a deserted, snow covered park. 

Just as John accepted his manhandling Sherlock set him on his feet. He was just about to protest (only half playfully), when Sherlock ducked down and wrapped his arms around John’s thighs so he could lift him higher. 

John barked a laugh and let out a whoop as Sherlock began spinning in a wide circle. He turned his face upward, letting the snow dust his eyelashes and taking in the flat black sky above him. When Sherlock finally stopped spinning he was panting hard and looking up at John with a huge smile on his face. John cupped Sherlock’s face in his hands and brushed his thumbs across those spectacular cheekbones, before leaning down for a kiss. Sherlock hummed against his lips and licked his way eagerly into John’s mouth. Clearly lifting John did something for him too.

With a ragged gasp, Sherlock lowered John to his feet. He did not waste a moment before he pulled him into another deep kiss. Soon their cheeks were red form more than just the cold. 

“Home?” John said, brushing the snow from Sherlock’s hair gently.

“Hum, yes,” Sherlock said, pressing himself against John in a way that let him know just exactly what they’d be doing when they got there.

****

**5.**

John gasped as Sherlock’s teeth nipped at his neck, his back was pressed against the detective’s bedroom door. Sherlock was clad in nothing but his pajama bottoms, while John was totally bare. 

Hooking his fingers in the waistband of Sherlock’s bottoms, he yanked them off, hands immediately squeezing his arse. Sherlock growled and sucked hard at the base of John’s throat, his hands tangled in John’s hair, moving John how he wanted him.

John shivered, he loved it when Sherlock got a little rough. 

“God yes,” John gasped, as Sherlock’s tongue traced over one of his nipples.

Sherlock hummed against his skin, sucking the nipple into his mouth and scraping it with his teeth. John let out a moan and shook in Sherlocks arms. His hips thrust upward against Sherlock’s hard thigh. Sherlock let out a moan of his own and shifted his hips until their cocks aligned. The slow silky glide made him dizzy with want.

Their kissing turned messy as the grinding of their cocks fell in sync. Sherlock had to bend his knees to reach, but John couldn’t be arsed to care. Especially not when Sherlock’s huge hand  wrapped around them both and began to stroke them hard and fast. John groaned as he felt his gut tighten. He was close, just a little-

He whined in protest when Sherlock took his hand away. The detective’s hands slid to arse, gave a hard squeeze and then shifted to John’s thighs. John’s eyes flew open as Sherlock lifted him easily off the floor and pressed him harder against the door.

“Oh god,” John said, his legs wrapping around Sherlock’s wasit. 

Sherlock grinned up at him, his hair sticking to his temples with sweat. 

“H-how can you even?” John tried to ask.

His hands wandered to Sherlock’s biceps, squeezing the hard muscles. Muscles that he was sure weren’t there until recently.

Sherlock winked at him. “I have to do something while you’re at work.”

John let out a laugh that turned into gasp as Sherlock ground his cock against the cleft of his arse.

“One day I’m going to fuck you like this John,” Sherlock said, slowly working his hips.

John let his head fall back and relished in the drag of Sherlock’s hot cock against his hole. “God yes,” he sighed, squeezing Sherlock’s arms.

Sherlock chuckled and leaned in to taste John’s throat.

“Touch yourself for me. Let me see you come,” Sherlock growled, his eyes dark.

John swallowed hard. When Sherlock got like this, demanding and fierce, it  _ did  _ things to him.

He wrapped a hand around his cock and began to stroke in time with the motion off Sherlock’s hips.

“Faster,” Sherlock panted, following his own words and moving his hips faster.

John moaned and obeyed, his hand moving hard and fast over his cock. He could feel his orgasm building. Between Sherlock’s erotic display of strength and his commands in that  _ voice _ , he knew it wouldn’t be long now. 

“One day,” Sherlock hissed, “I’m going to lube up that tight little arse of yours, haul you off your feet just like this, and fuck you until you scream.”

John’s eyes clenched closed as the heat in his groin spread to his thighs and belly and began to tighten.

“Or maybe,”Sherlock continued, “I’ll give my arms a rest, tie your hands behind your back and have you sit on my face.”

John moaned at the image, and moved his hand faster.

“Then I’ll lick your arsehole until you’re pleading for me to touch your cock.”

That was it. The heat in John’s belly and groin tightened and exploded outward. His toes curled and he shouted as his orgasm tore through him, hard and fast. 

Sherlock bit him sharply on the neck and licked him lewdly, his arms shaking. 

John sagged and Sherlock gently lowered his feet to the floor. He pressed his face into Sherlock’s shoulder panting hard as aftershocks zinged through his limbs. Looking lazily up at Sherlock he pulled the the man into a deep kiss, very aware of the hard line of the man’s cock against his belly.

Petting through Sherlock’s hr, he gently backed them up until Sherlock’s knees bumped into the side of  their bed.

“Sit,” John said, pushing on Sherlock’s shoulder. 

Sherlock sat, his eyes never leaving John’s as the man sank onto his knees before him.  

“Now, give those arms of yours a rest,” John said, spreading Sherlock’s thighs and sliding between them. 

He smirked deviously at Sherlock before swallowing him to the hilt.

 

****

**+1**

John laughed at Mike’s joke and tossed an arm around Sherlock’s shoulders, giving him a squeeze. Sherlock laughed along with them before taking another bite of his cake.

John turned to him, taking in Sherlock’s glowing eyes and easy smile. He looked incredibly handsome and incredibly happy. John was smiling wide himself, his belly warm with drink and joy.

Just then the DJ changed the song to something fast and very familiar. Sherlock perked up and set his fork on his saucer with a clang. 

“If you’ll excuse us Mike, I’d like to take my husband for a turn around the dance floor.” 

Mike grinned and raised his glass in a toast. Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and pulled him to his feet, his thumb brushing over John’s new ring.

The song hit the corus and Sherlock spun him and pulled him close as Whitney Houston's voice poured happily from the speakers. It was well into their reception, but the dance floor was still full. Being the men of honour, people easily danced out their way so they could make it to the center of the floor. 

A sea of familiar, loved faces passed in a blur as Sherlock danced them in upbeat circles. He saw Mrs Hudson dancing with the newly single Mr Chatterjai, Molly spinning past with Greg, and probably thanks to too much champagne, Mycroft swaying next to an overly excited (but sober) Harry. 

His attention was taken away as Sherlock playfully spun him out and away from his body, before twirling John back to him and pulling him close once again. John laughed and pulled Sherlock  down for a quick kiss. A flash went off and John looked up to see their wedding photographer poised at the ready for another shot. Happy to oblige he kept Sherlock close and smiled for the camera. He wanted as many pictures of this day as possible. As the flash went off again he felt Sherlock’s lips against his temple. The photographer flipped them a thumbs up and moved on to get more candid shots of the crowd. 

They danced the rest of the night away, until the wedding planner told them the car was here and it was time for their exit. True to form John held Sherlock’s hand tight as they ran through their guests, rice grains bouncing off John’s jacket and getting caught in Sherlock’s hair. In the backseat John laughed as he brushed the rice grains out of Sherlock’s curls, his laugh was smothered as Sherlock kissed him.

Thirty minutes later they were at their hotel. Their flight to Italy was tomorrow, something John was infinitely grateful for. His was far too tipsy and his feet hurt far too much for him to even consider getting on a plane. Sherlock took his hand again as they walked through the lobby and didn’t let go until they were at their room door. John had planned to steal a few kisses in the elevator, but the presence of a family of four had put a halt to his plans.

As Sherlock unlocked the door, John realised there was one more thing he wanted before he went inside.

“John?” Sherlock said from just inside their suite. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something Sherlock?” John said, leaning against the wall with a slow smile.

Sherlock looked confused, but didn’t move. He was clearly waiting for John to elaborate. 

“We just got married didn’t we?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said slowly, brow furrowed. 

“And isn’t there something the groom is supposed to do….”

Sherlock’s blank look stayed in place.

“.....when we get to the door of the room?”

Sherlock blinked at him a moment before his expression cleared.

“Oh!”

“Oh indeed,” John said laughing.

“But both of us are the groom so I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Sherlock said smiling and walking over to John.

John held out his arms, “Indulge me, husband.”

Sherlock laughed and swept John up into his arms. John pressed a kiss to the underside of Sherlock jaw and nuzzled at his neck.

Sherlock easily carried John over the threshold and kicked the door shut behind them. A giggling John was then carried through every single doorway in their suite, before they finally fell into bed.

***

After that, on every anniversary, Sherlock made sure to whisk John off his feet and carry him through their door.  And every single year John told Sherlock he'd been whisked off his feet since the day they met.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts are open, so stop by [my tumblr](http://loveinthemindpalace.tumblr.com/) if you'd like me to fill one!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] I'll Carry You Into Our Future My Dear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549772) by [Lockedinjohnlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lockedinjohnlock/pseuds/Lockedinjohnlock)




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